A Case for Smaller FF Models

By Tom Hallman | maxfliart@hallmanstudio.com

IN COMPLETE CONTRAST to an earlier column that I wrote this year, I’m going to flip the canvas and point the way toward a beloved segment of the hobby: Peanut Scale, or models with a wingspan of less than 13 inches. How can something so small bring such joy? When it’s made of light balsa sticks and tissue, the answer is simple because the possibilities become endless.

The 12-inch wingspan Heath Parasol, built by Tom Hallman from the 1931 National kit, was the first known mass-produced Peanut Scale model. It now resides at the AMA National Model Aviation Museum in Muncie IN.

This is how I felt when I was first introduced to a vast fleet of Peanut Scale aircraft at the 1990 Flying Aces Club (FAC) Nationals in Geneseo, New York. There, on a line of Scale judging tables, were dozens of beautiful, tiny aircraft of all types. I was awestruck. As I walked the perimeter of the tables holding a large VHS camcorder on my shoulder, a beam of light seemingly shined down upon one specific model, the late Phil Cox’s perfectly realized 1929 Glenny Henderson Gadfly. It was enchanting. This was precision building, delicate and light yet capable of soaring, scalelike flights.

At that early moment of my rubber-powered modeling storyline, I knew that I would be diving headfirst into the world of tiny aircraft, with Peanuts holding a strong position in my building schedule. It began in 1991 with a simple Mr. Smoothie racer from Dick Howard plans. I followed that with a colorful clipped-wing Cub that proceeded to fly away in a thermal.

Next came a cantankerous World War II Ohka Cherry Blossom, which proved that not all models fly smoothly off the building board—my first Free Flight (FF) failure. It was, however, also a lesson learned, to remain focused on the needs of a model and not to trim by forcing it to fly as you imagine. I learned about rebalancing for the center of gravity, adjusting the thrust, and decalage.

That failure was followed by my favorite Peanut Scale model from the decade, the World War I Martinsyde Buzzard, which was a smooth and stable flyer, indoors or out in the blue, that flew on rails. It went on to win numerous events, and I was honored with my first Walt Mooney Award at the 1996 FAC Nats for the best-looking Peanut. I was hooked.

For many, the desire to build a Peanut Scale model was fueled by the enjoyable and inspiring books of the late Bill Hannan, starting with Peanuts & Pistachios. They featured plans, three-views, and photos from modelers around the world. Bill often spotlighted models from Postal Contests, where they would be sent safely across the world to compete in international events and flown proxy by the welcoming modeling friends on the other end. All of this became fascinating to a young modeler who was looking to gain more experience.

Through these books, magazine articles, and columns, I was introduced to master builders, notably Jiro Sugimoto and the late Dave Rees, both of whom never seemed to take a bad step with their choice of modeling subjects. They ranged from the simple Golden Age models to others that were more contemporary, captivating, and challenging, yet each and every one flew beautifully and, most importantly, inspired others to try the same. My goal was to follow their path, promoting the beauty and joy of flying these little gems while also raising my own standard of craftsmanship.

Built by the author, the 1911 Bleriot XXVI soared at the FAC Nats, where it was given the Walt Mooney Award for the best-looking Peanut Scale model. Photo by Karin Escalante.

This beautiful and stylish 13-inch wingspan Waco YKS flies as well as it looks. It was built by master builder Enrique Maltz, an Argentine who lives in Tel Aviv, Israel.

Lovingly detailed, the 1917 Martinsyde Buzzard Peanut Scale model was built by the author in 1996 after he was inspired by one of his many mentors, the late Dave Rees.

Master modeler Jiro Sugimoto, from Nagoya, Japan, built this spectacular 1937 Mauboussin M.40 Hemiptere Peanut Scale aircraft for indoor and outdoor flying. Photo by Jiro Sugimoto.

So, why Peanut Scale? Why make the effort to build something this small? Just as it’s a challenge to build a large model, building Peanut Scale is another way to flex your balsa skills. If you hit a modeling wall, at least you know that there’s a minimum size for your eyes and fingers. Try to instead bump up to the next size, in the 16-inch to 20-inch range.

Peanut Scale models can typically be built in far less time. They can also be used as test beds for larger, more involved models of the same. Of course, they take up far less space and use little in the way of rubber motors, so your modeling budget goes a long way. Plus, they can be flown indoors or out, with only a mild shift in motor size to maximize duration.

As my experience with modeling grew, so did the complexity of my Peanut aircraft, but I’ve known modelers who have preferred to focus on simple, high-wing designs. They come to the field or gymnasium with a box containing four or five Peanuts, along with a stooge and a flight box. Within minutes, they are into the air for some quick FF fun.

A typical Peanut Scale model can weigh 8 to 12 grams using a 5- to 6-inch propeller and a single loop of 1/8-inch rubber that is 20 inches long. The best of the modelers will cut deeply into those numbers, but for the occasional flyer, these specifications will surely get you into the air for a day of respectable duration.

The next time you visit the AMA National Model Aviation Museum in Muncie, Indiana, check out its fine display on the history of Peanut Scale models. Chances are that you will come away with the same feeling I had back in 1990.

The 13-inch Mitsubishi IMFI once appeared on the cover of Model Aviation. It shows the many parts that come together in the creation of a Peanut Scale model.